


Echo Burning

by Telas_Selar



Category: Star Trek: Picard
Genre: (1) Mention of Cannibalism, Also he wants to punch Quark, Amputee main character, Angst, Cigars, Dangerous Telepath S'vec Sylar, Degradation (briefly), Dehumanisation (briefly), Drugged Cristóbal Rios, Drugged S'vec Sylar, Drugs, Everyone knows they're gay, Fluff, Gay S'vec Sylar, Gentle Cristóbal Rios, Gentle Kissing, Implied/Referenced Mental Conditioning, Implied/Referenced Past Branding, Implied/Referenced Past Torture, M/M, Mutual Pining, POW S'vec Sylar, Pansexual Cristóbal Rios, Protective Cristóbal Rios, Protective S'vec Sylar, References to Drugs, Shameless Cristóbal Rios, Smoking, Soft Agnes Jurati, Sylar Is Ferengi Bait, Sylar loves the holos, Syrios, Useless Gay Disasters, Vulcan Affection, Vulcan Culture, Vulcan soulbonds, mentions of whipping, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:54:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24663433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Telas_Selar/pseuds/Telas_Selar
Summary: Rios goes undercover as a 'facer and Sylar joins him, posing as his v'tosh ka'tur bodyguard, but unsurprisingly, not all goes according to plan.AU retelling of the FreeCloud excursion from s01e05 "Stardust City Rag."
Relationships: Cristóbal Rios/S'vec Sylar, Raffi Musiker & S'vec Sylar, Raffi Musiker/Seven of Nine
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7





	1. Chapter 1

_“La Sirena, this is FreeCloud Orbital Control, confirming transfer of conn.”_

“Roger that.” Cristóbal Rios’ fingertips moved lightly over his controls, amusement crossing his features as a miniature hologram appeared in front of him, displaying a carefully tailored advertisement that was meant to draw him in, but it didn’t, as he flicked the small projection away with only mild irritation. Dismissing the thought of his browsing history being scanned to create said advertisement, he turned to the closest person, and likely the most rigidly standing one on the bridge with fondness in his gaze.

“Sir?” S’vec Sylar inquired typically, but Rios didn’t respond, instead choosing to stare at him in a manner that was extremely unprofessional, but incredibly satisfying, pleasant thoughts drowning out the sound of Admiral Picard’s own hologram as the Captain’s gaze drifted from Sylar’s eyes to his lips then back again in a tantalising pattern. They hadn’t had more than a few minutes together since the motley crew had beamed aboard, and Rios was more than ready to _do_ something about it.

He was only pulled from his reverie by Agnes’ distressed shouts as she tried to dodge her own, overly enthusiastic holographic advertisement, something that also piqued Sylar’s interest, although not as strongly (the Vulcan’s thoughts were more similar to Rios’ thoughts than he would have voluntarily admitted), making the Captain shift in his chair momentarily.

“You have to _punch_ it” Rios offered helpfully.

“What?” Agnes sounded scandalised.

“Hit it as hard as you can.”

“I don’t hit things!”

This exchange caused a slight smile to tug at Raffi’s lips and she turned to them.

“Oh no, he’s right, doc. You need to knock his head clear off.”

Only half-listening now, Sylar stepped back to allow Agnes more room to strike, and for the resulting admiration from both Raffi and Rios to wash over him. He saw no logic to these advertisement holograms, nor did he understand them, but he supposed there was always the category of people who did, considering the fact that they existed. Although clearly, Raffi wasn’t impressed by hers either, judging by the aggressive way she dismissed it. That only left Elnor and-

 _-Come to Quark’s, Quark’s is fun, come right now, don’t walk,_ **_run!”_ **

Sylar raised an eyebrow at the spinning holographic logo in front of him, clearly unimpressed but somewhat amused by it. That was, until he saw the darkening expression on Rios’ face, causing him to dismiss the projection quickly without asking any of the questions he wanted to.

“I would’ve expected something a bit more...medical” Raffi offered mildly, but she was clearly fighting the urge to laugh.

“He’s even more obnoxious now than he was before” Rios complained, making Sylar open his mouth with the intention to ask when and how he had shown disrespect, but he was spared the burden of doing so when the captain decided to clarify, turning back to Sylar as he did so. “After all this time, Quark really can’t keep it in his pants when it comes to you, but this...this is low.”

“I do not see why anyone would not be able to k-” Sylar started, but didn’t get to finish, as Elnor cut in, confused by why he had not gotten a hologram of his own, making everyone else obligingly turn to watch him look around as though expecting said hologram to appear at any moment.

“Perhaps _you_ should go to Quark’s” Sylar suggested helpfully.


	2. Chapter 2

Of all the things Rios really hated, putting people he cared about, namely his...lover(?), in harm’s way, regardless of purpose or intention, was at the very top of his list, but as he watched  _ Sirena _ ’s EHH help Sylar into the somewhat elaborately styled robes of the  _ v’tosh ka'tur _ , he couldn’t help but resume his staring. Raffi had determined that a former acquaintance of the ex-Borg Seven of Nine was holding their query, and the group had also discovered that the Tal Shiar were looking for him, prime reasons for Rios to want Sylar, who was a former Romulan prisoner of war and a dormant (although unwilling) Tal Shiar spy, as far from the planet’s surface as possible, but the Vulcan had overridden his objections easily, pointing out that Zhaban aside, no one here knew the Tal Shiar as well as he did. Besides, had the situation been reversed, Rios would not have let Sylar go alone, especially considering the fact that the Captain's disguise would prove to be a dangerous one unless he succeeded in keeping up the deception. 

Rios knew full-well that this was true, and the fact that this extremely logical Vulcan was willing to pose as one without logic just to be by his side was touching to the other man, in a way that was somewhat selfish. 

He folded his arms over his chest for a moment, before stepping forwards, unable to help himself, fingertips shifting to the pristine collar of Sylar's robes. 

“Too perfect” Rios explained as he tugged at it to realign it. “Your  _ v'tosh ka'tur  _ are  _ without logic. _ No urge for  _ perfection _ ; you have to look  _ prideful,  _ Sylar. Prideful and out of phase.”

Sylar's brow furrowed, those were traits he did not have, but he was too distracted by Rios' hands and Steward's too, although the EHH was silently trying to work on the Vulcan's fringe, trying to make it match one of the less complicated haircuts which the database had supplied. 

“I will do whatever is necessary, Captain” Was what Sylar said, and Rios sighed, although fondly. 

“I know. That's what concerns me.”

“I do not understand your concerns, sir, as I will not compromise you.”

“You're my First Officer, you should be here,  _ viejo _ . Instead you're putting yourself in danger, again. For me. Although I suppose I don’t want you anywhere near Zhaban..who will be, thankfully, staying with Agnes...”

“There” Steward cut in, finally setting down his comb. “That should be uh…satisfactory.”

Rios muttered something about unnecessary announcements, but Sylar just held up his palm to the hologram, offering a familial touch which Steward accepted, touching his digits to the Vulcan's own for a moment before he deactivated himself. 

Noting the Captain's expression, Sylar said nothing about Steward's absence, and tilted his head slightly to the side instead. 

“Is my deception sufficient in nature?” He inquired. Sylar didn't do mirrors except for a small reflective panel once every sixty days, to cut his fringe, and so depended solely on Rios' assessment. 

The Captain's lips twitched up in what could only be described as a delighted smirk. 

“You're really damn beautiful, if that's what you're asking.”


	3. Chapter 3

“..and you have a meeting with-”

“Mr Vup.”

Rios’ gaze darted away from Raffi momentarily, unable to prevent himself from allowing it to drift to Sylar, who was standing next to Elnor, hands clasped behind him, the height difference between the two somewhat endearing to observe. And although the Vulcan was clearly uncomfortable in the outfit and hairstyle he’d been given, he still looked startlingly beautiful with both...although he  _ always _ looked startlingly beautiful. 

Following Rios’ gaze easily, Raffi frowned very slightly and cleared her throat, one hand moving to lightly touch his shoulder in warning, the anxiety more than apparent in her expression.

“Hey, no. Rios, you seriously really  _ need _ to sell this. You can’t keep staring at him like that, and you  _ can’t _ do your broody existentialist spaceman routine.” Letting go with an attempt at faux cheer, the former officer took a step back. “Your _ personality _ needs to match your  _ clothes _ . You need to show a little..panache.”

Sylar lifted a brow in the distance, as Seven of Nine tilted her head slightly, choosing to ignore whatever was going on between the captain and his Vulcan physician.

“You need a feather in your hat.”


	4. Chapter 4

Cristóbal Rios was beautiful, Sylar decided, as the two men made their way into the club, the Vulcan's hand tingling painfully from the inoculation he'd just been given several minutes prior. It made him feel ill, and his legs feel weak, not to mention the way it numbed his tongue, but as Raffi had pointed out, he was too rigid to pass successfully as _v'tosh ka'tur_ without some sort of chemical intervention. The fact that the injection site had been his palm, a very sensitive place for a Vulcan, had only increased his disorientation. But, at least now their joint deception had a higher chance of success. 

His gaze drifted over his companion, admiring the flamboyant way in which he was dressed, and although he did find it somewhat illogical - green was a _stunning_ colour on the Captain. As for the feather - the feather kept _moving._ Did feathers usually do that? It was pleasant, almost meditative to observe-

“Sylar.”

“Sir?” 

Rios adjusted his cigar between his teeth as they cleared the entrance, and allowed his tense muscles to relax, very slightly, just enough to give the air of someone enjoying themselves, as he swayed in time to the thunderous beat of the club music, and leaned in to minimise the chance of his lips being read by someone else. 

“Focus. And don't call me 'sir' that's too Starfleet.”

“Yes si- Captain.”

“Never mind.” 

Leaving the Vulcan politely puzzled as he usually was, Rios crossed over to the bar, ordering a drink and a game tablet with a swaggering air that made Sylar tilt his head very slightly, especially at the mention of wanting _two_ umbrellas. Perhaps these 'umbrellas' were edible, he reasoned, trying to adjust his posture the way he usually did, but it was difficult to maintain any type of rigidity with the muscle relaxant hybrid coursing through his system, and he gave up. 

But before he could think about it for much longer, his sharp Vulcan ears picked up the sound of someone slowly creeping up on the Captain, making him turn just in time to see the Beta Annari that they had come to meet hiss sharply. 

“Feeling _lucky,_ Mr. Rios?” He snarled into the startled Captain's ear, making _him_ turn around, understandably uncomfortable. 

His next hiss, however, made the usually pacifistic Sylar take a step forwards, placing him just inside the stranger's personal space. 

Cris involuntarily raised an eyebrow in interest, and maybe a little relief at the other man's protective instinct rising so openly to the surface. Whatever he'd expected the Vulcan to do, it certainly wasn't this. 

“Selik” He said aloud in what he hoped was a believably disapproving tone that properly masked that emotion. “Noting personal space is important.”

The Vulcan’s brow furrowed, and he openly mouthed _Selik?_ Back at Cris with so much confusion that the Captain audibly grimaced. Sylar had missed the point entirely in his momentary curiosity at the alias.

_“Try and stay away from the lizard” Raffi had told the group earlier. “Beta Annari can smell when you’re not telling the truth.”_

_“Seriously?” Agnes had inquired, somewhat on edge, and Raffi had nodded. “Also what you had for dinner. And the last person you had sex with.”_

_“If they’re not the same thing” Rios had put in, only half-joking, but the reaction he’d gained from the two doctors clearly showed that neither of them had taken it as a joke. Agnes’ horror was plain on her face, Sylar’s regular confusion taken over by disapproval of such barbarism._

_“So_ **_that’s_ ** _not disturbing” Agnes had muttered, and Sylar had wanted to point out that it was, indeed, most certainly very disturbing, but a look from the Captain silenced him instantly._

“I’m Mr Vup” Declared the aforementioned now, making Rios jolt from his momentary reverie with a nervous, yet humourless laugh that confused Sylar just a little bit more.

“Of course you are - salutations.” Somewhat aware of the awkwardness of the situation, the Captain extended an arm in the other direction, and motioned for both men to follow him. “Please.”

“Let us not waste _time”_ the Beta Annari hissed. And as Sylar listened to Vup mention Rios’ references (the Captain looked positively murderous at the mention of Mr Quark of Ferenginar), he clasped his hands behind him and tried to focus. The lighting scheme and the loud music were both extremely exhausting to take in simultaneously, not to mention the fact that the drug in his system was not helping, since all he wanted to do now was get somewhere he could lie down and peacefully black out for however long it took to get rid of this sensation. Straining against the effects of a drug he’d never taken before was too difficult; his endurance training had been against physical torture, not hybrid Terran muscle relaxants. 

“...Have you had dealings with the _Tal Shiar_ before?” Vup was demanding now, making Sylar’s skin crawl, and although he said nothing, the brand at his pulse point seemed to writhe, to ache, if only momentarily wanting to make itself _known-_

There was a phaser at the Captain’s head. That wouldn’t do. That wouldn’t do _at all._

Ignoring the conversation, he stepped forwards in preparation of killing the man, but Rios was quick to prevent him from coming any closer.

“Stand down soldier” He said firmly, and Sylar obeyed instantly, making Vup hiss again, clearly suspicious of this exchange.

“Are all _v’tosh ka’tur_ this easy to control?” He wanted to know, and the captain’s eyes darted between the phaser and what he could see of Sylar from the corner of his eye. This was a mistake - one they could not afford - but it was too late now. Vulcan had no militia in this dimension, and despite the drug running through Sylar’s system, his obedience was too perfect for a Vulcan without logic. Perhaps Raffi should have given him something stronger.

“Actually no” Was what Rios said aloud, hoping that Sylar could keep his mouth shut unprompted. “This one’s conditioned to obey me” (not exactly a lie, give or take) “All I have to do is give him an order and he carries it out.”

“Did he think he could kill me?” Vup hissed in amusement, and Rios managed a smug smile. 

“If I told him to, certainly.”

“He’s unarmed.”

“Telepathy.”

“Hm. Very special _Vulcan_ you have yourself here, Mr _Rios.”_

The way he said it made Cris want to snap his neck, but he restrained himself, forcing a bored expression onto his face instead, although his pulse was hammering against his ribcage with every word he spoke.

“Him? Not really. All it takes is a few lashes with a good whip; any one of his kind will do whatever you want. That’s not why I’m here.”

“No?” Another low hiss, a darting glance at Sylar, who was growing weaker despite deceiving appearances, barely registering the spoken Standard. “He’d make a very interesting _addition_ to-”

“Look, do you want to hear my offer or not?” The Captain cut in sharply, ignoring the phaser that was still aimed at him.

“Very well, but we Beta Annari have _1,253_ olfactory receptor genes. Which means, among _other_ things, _I can smell a lie._ So Mr Rios - proceed with _caution.”_

 **_“Ay”_ ** _Rios had complained when the sharp prick of a hypospray met the side of his neck. Agnes had grimaced, putting it down as the Captain rubbed at the injection site._

_“Sorry-”_

_“_ **_What_ ** _the hell?”_

_Raffi was quick to pull away from Sylar, whom she’d injected directly in the middle of his palm, albeit not too gently._

_“Beta-blockers, anxiolytics, and benzos” She had told the Captain with a gentle hand on his shoulder, before indicating Sylar. “ And I gave **him** this new branch of muscle relaxant. Should work on easing up his posture. He’s too rigid.” _

_“Vulcan hands are extremely sensitive” Rios pointed out, eyeing the dark bruise rapidly forming where the hypospray had breached Sylar’s skin._

_“Well, he wouldn’t let me touch his neck.”_

_“Good.” Rios was territorial when it came to the Vulcan, and a sort of jealousy had sparked upon seeing a mark on him that_ **_he_ ** _hadn’t inflicted, especially in such an intimate place. He knew that this wasn’t a rational thought, but he didn’t care. Rationality was overrated._

_If Raffi had found Rios’ proclamation to be strange however, she said nothing about it._

_“Just in case you do run into one of those hypersensitive reptiloids, this combination can and will deceive their senses. Don’t worry too much, it should kick in right about when you need it.”_

It appeared that Raffi was as good as her word. Rios could feel a pleasant heaviness sparking from within him now, making a dazed smile light up his features, something which would have made Sylar’s concern increase, had he been coherent enough. As it was, he was only remaining in his position from sheer force of will, teeth still sunk deep into his lower lip, hard enough to draw blood. Whatever the former Commander had intended had happened, but it was clear that she hadn’t taken into account the fact that Sylar’s body chemistry was severely messed up to begin with, resulting in adverse effects that were extremely unpleasant in nature. In her defence, Sylar hadn’t shared those details with anyone but Emil and Rios.

But as Rios showed the Beta Annari the projection of Seven’s Borg implants, the Vulcan began to see dark spots in his vision. He did keep his mouth shut, however, knowing that for one thing, he wouldn’t be able to express the problem coherently, and for another, it was extremely illogical for him to ask the man he was supposed to be protecting for assistance. Not necessarily in that order.

Consequently, he was _extremely_ relieved when he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder, and looked up to see Rios, still dazed, but very much coherent.

“Are you alright?” The Captain asked, leading him out of Vup’s line of vision. Apparently more than several seconds had passed between the last of what Sylar had picked up from the conversation between the two and now, considering the fact that Rios was holding some kind of drive in one hand, indicating that he had apparently been “paid” and he no longer had the pattern enhancer.

“Yes, sir” The Vulcan managed, although the way he stumbled and nearly fell said otherwise, making Rios frown slightly, one hand moving to cup Sylar's face. 

_“Mierda. ¿Qué te hizo esa droga?”_ He asked, making a mental note to have Emil check any and every medication that went into Sylar's body from now on. 

“I am alright, Captain” Sylar insisted, albeit slowly. “Do you have the antidote? I do not think it would be logical that we be seen like this here. Your touch is too familiar, too kind for what you have stated our relationship to be.”

Guilt struck Rios' heart and he lowered his hand, instead holding one of Sylar's own arms behind his back and leading him out of the club, the tightness of his grip a parody of roughness. Anyone who saw them now would not assume they were lovers (is that what they were?) unless they looked closely to the Captain's guilt-stricken expression. 

The moment they were clear, however, he dropped the pretence, eyeing the incapacitated Vulcan with concern for a good long minute before he took the hypospray Raffi had handed him at the last minute and pressed it to the other man's neck. 

Almost immediately, Sylar's brow cleared, and the strange, sick feeling he'd struggled with for the past hour faded rapidly, although his muscles still felt tender. He ignored their tenderness though, choosing instead to force them into his usual rigid posture. 

“Thank you, sir” He managed calmly, and Rios gave him an uncertain smile as he nodded, gaze flickering over Sylar's face, trying to read him. 

“Anytime. How much of what I said back there did you hear?”

“Enough to know my place. You can rest assured that I will not overstep.”

This was exactly what Rios had feared would happen, and he passed a hand over his eyes, trying to think of how best to phrase his next words in a way that the Vulcan wouldn't take as hostile or threatening. 

In the end, he decided that words were likely meaningless, and chose to reach out, gently tilting Sylar's chin up with his fingertips before he kissed him softly, noting the blood on his lip from where he’d bitten it.

The Vulcan's eyes widened momentarily as they always did, but he relaxed, kissing the other man back.

“Sir?” Sylar asked when they broke apart, and Rios shifted the position of his hand to gently caress the other man’s cheekbone, his expression soft.

“You can’t overstep where there wasn’t a boundary to begin with” The Captain said. “I would never hurt you. I just said what I had to, to keep Vup’s interest away from you. If he’d dug any deeper, the truth might have come out, because I really doubt there are that many Vulcans like you, or at least in your position.”

“There are none, sir” Sylar responded, somewhat less tense than he had been before Cris made the impulsive decision to kiss him. “Any other Vulcan prisoners still alive in this century were killed during the destruction of Romulus. I am the last of them.”

“You’re not one of them anymore.”

“My branded wrist begs to differ, Captain. You do not cease to be a Romulan prisoner by leaving the place nor the time where you were first marked as one, and any attempts to remove that mark result in a painful death. They have bound me to them, and so theirs I remain, regardless of what is said or done.”

There was a moment of silence as Rios reflected on just how much he _loathed_ the Tal Shiar and everything they stood for; everything they had done to the man who stood before him, leaving him incapable of escaping the twisted truths of a fallen Empire, whose dark forces had not died with it. It was sickening, and it made Cris want to punch something.

Luckily he had an easy opportunity for that here…

“We can probably spare about an hour before we have to get back” He said, a grin lighting up his features. “How would you like to go to Quark’s?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> "Mierda. ¿Qué te hizo esa droga?” - "Shit. What did that drug do to you?'


End file.
